


Thunderstorm

by SolosOrca



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, No.6 AU, Sheith Positivity Week 2017, that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolosOrca/pseuds/SolosOrca
Summary: A strange boy appears at Shiro's window





	Thunderstorm

The storm was building, Shiro could feel it in the air. The anticipation fizzed inside him as the clouds above swelled, full of energy just waiting to be unleashed in one intense burst. 

As soon as he returned home, Shiro practically ran to his room under the pretence of doing homework. Rain has started to fall as he’s walked home. It was starting. 

It took seconds for the spots of rain to turn into a downpour, the wind whipping up and throwing it against Shiro’s windows. All the pent up emotions inside him started to bubble to the surface and his body ached to go out into the storm, to feel the wind and rain. What would it be like to be that free?

Lightening forked across the sky followed by the crash of thunder, jolting Shiro back to himself. With no thoughts in his head he walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up a wall of his room.

“Open,” He said clearly to the voice-controlled system.

“It is inadvisable-” The automated voice started, but Shiro cut it off.

“Open the window,” he said clearly and the window dutifully slid open.

Immediately, the wind roared in, tossing anything that it could lift into the air. It was followed by the rain, soaking everything.

Shiro took a deep breath of the turbulent air and stepped out into the maelstrom. His clothes were soaked through in seconds, but the wind howling in his ears and rain plastering him calmed him.

The scream ripped through his body, taking with it all his anxieties and anger and challenging the storm. The pressure of remaining perfect and staying in the Special Curriculum was taking its toll. There had to be more to life than just studying!

An alarm went off back inside his room and Shiro sighed, turning and walking back into his windswept room. He’d have to tidy it up before his mother saw the mess. The alarm display was showing an intruder alert.

Probably just a cat, Shiro thought, dismissing it and turning back to the window.

It was like something out of a movie, a flash of lightening back-lighting the figure stood on the threshold, hunched over and holding his arm. Shiro stepped back, but realised after the lightening faded, that the figure was a boy about his own age, whose arm was bleeding.

The boy’s eyes flashed as he took in Shiro, deciding whether he was a threat. Shiro held up his hands, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

“Takashi,” his mother’s voice came across the intercom, breaking the stalemate. “Is your window open? You should close it, it’s not safe.”

“You’ll have to come in,” Shiro said to the boy, who glared but stalked in, watching Shiro carefully as he shut the window and quickly came up with a lie to placate his mother.

Now that the boy was inside, Shiro could get a better look at him. His black hair was sopping wet as were his clothes that were thin and grey, completely unsuitable for this weather. But his eyes were fiery and defiant, even as they tried to find all the escape routes. 

“I have first aid training,” Shiro offered, motioning to the boy’s bleeding arm, “I can fix that.”

The boy stared at Shiro for a long time, so long that Shiro wasn’t sure he’d understood him, and then nodded. 

“Sit down,” Shiro said as he grabbed the first aid kit from under the bed and dashed back to the boy’s side on the sofa. “I’ve never tried it on anyone though, so sorry in advance,” he said, mostly to lighten the mood no matter how true it was.

“So I’m your guinea pig?” The boy asked, an eyebrow raised. “Typical.”

“Huh?”

“You, you’re Special Curriculum and you’re using me, who isn’t, as a test.”

Shiro frowned at him. That might be true if you looked at it that way, but it wasn’t how he felt! “Do you want to be stitched up?”

The boy nodded and offered Shiro his arm.

“What happened to you?” Shiro asked, examining the wound. It looked like a gunshot.

“None of your business!” The boy snapped. “Hey, what are you doing?” He asked, fear in his voice as Shiro pulled out a syringe.

“It’ll stop the pain,” Shiro explained, “it’s just a local anaesthetic.”

The boy didn’t look convinced, but allowed Shiro to inject him, wincing at the pain. The boy reacted angrily to everything Shiro did over the next ten minutes as he removed what was definitely a bullet and sewed up the wound. Shiro talked him through every step, which seemed to calm him somewhat. 

Shiro was pretty sure he must have escaped from somewhere, people didn’t just get shot in No. 6, but he didn’t press, instead he gave the boy a spare change of clothes. It was lucky they were about the same size.

“What’s your name?” Shiro asked after he’d gone downstairs to get some food. Whilst down there, his mother had warned him about an escaped convict on the run and Shiro’s suspicions had heightened. 

The boy, now sat on his bed, scoffing down a bowl of stew, looked him up and down. “Keith,” he said eventually. “I’m an escaped convict. What, not going to call the police?” he asked when Shiro didn’t so much as blink. Then, in a flash, Shiro was lying on his back, Keith above him, pressing a fork to his throat. “I could kill you right now.”

Shiro stared up into his eyes, his gaze unfaltering. Vaguely he wondered why he wasn’t scared, Keith looked thoroughly serious. Outside, another peal of thunder rattled around the city. Keith’s eyes flickered and he sat up, stabbing the fork into the stew violently. 

“I know you’re a convict,” Shiro said, still flat on the bed. He could still feel the prongs of the fork sticking into his throat. “I just... you’re my age.”

Keith scoffed. “Anyone can be a criminal here in No. 6.”

“What?”

“Never mind. This is something someone of the Special Curriculum couldn’t understand.”

Shiro decided it was best not to push, not wanting the fork pressed to his throat again. “My parents never come up whilst I’m studying,” he said instead, hoping to convince Keith that he was at least partially safe.

“Good,” Keith muttered, curling up on the bed. Shiro moved the tray away and lay down next to him -the sofa was very uncomfortable to sleep on.

He wondered what he was going to do in the morning, how was he supposed to keep an escaped convict hidden? His worried were solved however, when he woke to find no sign of Keith anywhere and he breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that the boy had managed to find somewhere safer.

He was feeling very good about himself until he went downstairs and found the police waiting for him in the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have time to write the rest of this AU, but I do have many thought about it haha
> 
> Shiro's streak of white hair comes from the bee/wasp thing.  
> He loses his arm and gains a prosthetic between this fic and when Keith comes back to save him.  
> Keeping the prosthetic working outside of No. 6 is a major headache, but they work it out somehow.  
> Yes, Keith does crossdress to make money.


End file.
